Status: Completed! Sequel?
Friendly Affections
Chapter Nine
“Hello?”
I hung up.
I am twelve years old, I chastised myself mentally. Calling him, and hanging up.
But I wanted to hear his voice. And not his voice in a pre-recorded interview or a candid video of him and his teammates. I wanted to hear it live, and directed at me. That’s why I called him from a number I knew he wouldn’t recognize and hung up, three times. It was silly and just a bit sad, but I missed Jack.
The first few times I had intended on speaking, on apologizing and possibly crying, but every time I heard his voice my mind locked up and I couldn’t even begin. I knew it was his curiosity that kept him answering, but his patience had to be wearing thin. Nonetheless, I kept calling.
“This is getting real old.” He growled when he picked up for the fifth time.
I forced my mouth to say something, anything. And out came an automatic, snark-filled, wry remark. “Half the blames yours, since you keep answering.”
“Oh.” He answered, less angry. “It’s you.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” I bit down hard on my lip, and closed my eyes. It’s amazing how idiotic actions can make you feel like a dumb-ass. Not.
“What’s up?”
I opened my eyes. “Um, nothing.” I responded, uncertain. He was enraged, upset or remotely sore, only indifferent. “You?”
“NHL’s still locked out, so nothing. I went up to U of M for a little while.” But of course, I knew. It was plastered in every sport’s column across the city: NHL Lockout: No Agreement in Sight and Blue Jacket’s Star, Jack Johnson, off to Alma Mater. It didn’t help I worked for a newspaper.
“I think I heard about that. Are you considering going to play for another league? I saw some players went overseas, like Kane and Seguin.” I continued, my heart banging madly, all from simply conversing with him. I was a wreck, and I had been since the day I had willingly walked out of his life. I knew my mistake, letting go of something so right, and I was prepared to do everything in my power to reprimand it.
He actually laughed. “No, not at all. How’s Kate?”
I noticed how quickly he changed the subject and frowned. We had always talked about hockey together, even before I understood things as basic as icing, and it was finally becoming apparent how different things where. It was obvious we weren’t lovers anymore and hardly friends, but with his brush off of such and important topic in his life made it seem like there was no hope for us to have anything, ever again.
“She’s good, she’s great. But, you won’t play at all this season? I thought this whole new CBA thing was going to be resolved quickly. It’s been months. And you’re not playing, why not?” I pressed.
He sighed, and was silent for a moment before answering. “Jodie...you’re the last person I want to talk to about this. Or talk to in general. Why did you even call me?”
“Look.” I was suddenly intimidated since we were no longer beating around the bush, but determined to answer him honestly. “I just...need to apologize. For what I did, to you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say sorry.” And beg you to take me back, I added silently.
“Okay. Accepted.” He replied sharply, and I knew I was anything but forgiven. “So how’s Mark?”
“He’s...good.” I suppose, but didn't truly know because I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. Mark had never been stupid or unobservant, and he didn’t have to stay around to long to know I was pining for another man. He wasn’t even upset or surprised; he said he had always figured I find someone who better fit me while he was away. And I had, and lost him.
“Jo, I can’t do this.” He spoke softly.
I could’ve cried, my voice was thick with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized, it’s fine, you’re forgiven.” I was a little more convinced by his statement the second time, and I brushed away the tears gathering in my eyes. I was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. We were ridiculous, together. I hurt him and he tried to staunch my tears by forgiving me for something inexcusable.
“I’ll let you go.” I conceded. There was so much to say, but I knew it would only drive a wedge deeper into his heart.
“Okay. I, um, I wish you all the best, Jo. I hope you’re happy, I really do. And I do forgive you. It’s just, don’t...” He paused. “...don’t call again. Maybe exes can be friends, but we aren’t really exes, were something else and I don’t think we can. So, just, ‘bye.” He finished in a hurry.
“...‘Bye.” I managed, but he had already hung up.
I hung up.
I am twelve years old, I chastised myself mentally. Calling him, and hanging up.
But I wanted to hear his voice. And not his voice in a pre-recorded interview or a candid video of him and his teammates. I wanted to hear it live, and directed at me. That’s why I called him from a number I knew he wouldn’t recognize and hung up, three times. It was silly and just a bit sad, but I missed Jack.
The first few times I had intended on speaking, on apologizing and possibly crying, but every time I heard his voice my mind locked up and I couldn’t even begin. I knew it was his curiosity that kept him answering, but his patience had to be wearing thin. Nonetheless, I kept calling.
“This is getting real old.” He growled when he picked up for the fifth time.
I forced my mouth to say something, anything. And out came an automatic, snark-filled, wry remark. “Half the blames yours, since you keep answering.”
“Oh.” He answered, less angry. “It’s you.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” I bit down hard on my lip, and closed my eyes. It’s amazing how idiotic actions can make you feel like a dumb-ass. Not.
“What’s up?”
I opened my eyes. “Um, nothing.” I responded, uncertain. He was enraged, upset or remotely sore, only indifferent. “You?”
“NHL’s still locked out, so nothing. I went up to U of M for a little while.” But of course, I knew. It was plastered in every sport’s column across the city: NHL Lockout: No Agreement in Sight and Blue Jacket’s Star, Jack Johnson, off to Alma Mater. It didn’t help I worked for a newspaper.
“I think I heard about that. Are you considering going to play for another league? I saw some players went overseas, like Kane and Seguin.” I continued, my heart banging madly, all from simply conversing with him. I was a wreck, and I had been since the day I had willingly walked out of his life. I knew my mistake, letting go of something so right, and I was prepared to do everything in my power to reprimand it.
He actually laughed. “No, not at all. How’s Kate?”
I noticed how quickly he changed the subject and frowned. We had always talked about hockey together, even before I understood things as basic as icing, and it was finally becoming apparent how different things where. It was obvious we weren’t lovers anymore and hardly friends, but with his brush off of such and important topic in his life made it seem like there was no hope for us to have anything, ever again.
“She’s good, she’s great. But, you won’t play at all this season? I thought this whole new CBA thing was going to be resolved quickly. It’s been months. And you’re not playing, why not?” I pressed.
He sighed, and was silent for a moment before answering. “Jodie...you’re the last person I want to talk to about this. Or talk to in general. Why did you even call me?”
“Look.” I was suddenly intimidated since we were no longer beating around the bush, but determined to answer him honestly. “I just...need to apologize. For what I did, to you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say sorry.” And beg you to take me back, I added silently.
“Okay. Accepted.” He replied sharply, and I knew I was anything but forgiven. “So how’s Mark?”
“He’s...good.” I suppose, but didn't truly know because I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. Mark had never been stupid or unobservant, and he didn’t have to stay around to long to know I was pining for another man. He wasn’t even upset or surprised; he said he had always figured I find someone who better fit me while he was away. And I had, and lost him.
“Jo, I can’t do this.” He spoke softly.
I could’ve cried, my voice was thick with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized, it’s fine, you’re forgiven.” I was a little more convinced by his statement the second time, and I brushed away the tears gathering in my eyes. I was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. We were ridiculous, together. I hurt him and he tried to staunch my tears by forgiving me for something inexcusable.
“I’ll let you go.” I conceded. There was so much to say, but I knew it would only drive a wedge deeper into his heart.
“Okay. I, um, I wish you all the best, Jo. I hope you’re happy, I really do. And I do forgive you. It’s just, don’t...” He paused. “...don’t call again. Maybe exes can be friends, but we aren’t really exes, were something else and I don’t think we can. So, just, ‘bye.” He finished in a hurry.
“...‘Bye.” I managed, but he had already hung up.
♠ ♠ ♠
READ THIS, IT’S IMPORTANTA/N: Bonjour! It’s been so long, my bad. I’ve spent sometime with this story and I have revised the crap out of it. I plan on updating the previous chapters, and I will denote which chapter have been changed. Some chapters, like the first, have changed a TON. Others, like the second or so, haven’t changed much. I would recommend you go back a read them, but if you don’t it’s chill. You’ll still understand the story.